


I'm here

by littlemisscurious



Series: Drabble-Sunday [8]
Category: Actor RPF, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:25:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1231549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisscurious/pseuds/littlemisscurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>part of Drabble-Sunday II over on my tumblr;</p><p>Prompt: see gif</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm here

 

Annoyed she stubbed out her cigarette, the fifth she had been smoking in the past forty minutes. She had known he would be late, _oh yes_. He always was. Never in the past 4 years had she ever experienced him to be on time, not even close. Ten minutes late was a miracle, twenty minutes late the norm. Forty minutes late, however, was simply _rude_. And she would make sure he got to know that as soon as he arrived.

 

Meanwhile, the sun shone brightly from the clear blue sky above her and the birds sang away in the trees of the orchard ahead. It smelled of freshly mown grass and of cows. It wasn’t the smell of cow dung, though, but rather the comfortable, homey sort of smell that told everyone who took a deep breath that the next big city was miles and miles away and most of the vehicles driving around here were most likely tractors rather than proper cars.

With a loud sigh she pushed herself off the waist-high stone wall. Looking at it, she was surprised it was actually still standing given that it was merely a messy collection of unshapely stones stacked on top of each other and not a proper, brick-built wall that one was so used to seeing when driving through those big, ugly, modern housing estates in the city. _How she hated them._

Out here, in the countryside, things were different. Everything was a little less neat, a little less organised. People lived more freely and albeit they had their routines and schedules, their animal feeding times and harvest periods, they were more relaxed. Nobody out here threw a tantrum if the bus was late. Nobody started mumbling to himself angrily if the person in front of them at the bakery started a quick chat with the baker himself. No, instead, they joined in, they were friendly. People out here smiled a lot and still greeted each other instead of pretending not to know the next door neighbour. They helped each other and looked after each other as best as they could.

 

Life in the country should have taught her to be patient. But how could she be patient on a day like this?

Once more she glanced at her watch, twinkling silver in the bright sunlight. She was convinced that her hair was a mess by now and she must smell of smoke. Maybe he would have a chewing gum for her later. _If he ever actually turned up that is._

 

The scrunching of wheels on the gravel leading up to the main farmhouse caught her attention and she turned around to see the trunk of his car vanish behind the building.

_At last!_

Carefully, she climbed over the wall right where a few of the top stones had fallen off, making it easier for her short legs to cross the obstacle. The wheat ears brushed against her bare calves, tickling and scratching her skin as she crossed the field instead of taking the small, earthy path around it. Her small purse dangled off her shoulder and occasionally it caught on some of the ears but she could not be bothered to hold it higher over the ears.

By the time she reached the back of the house she could already hear her mother’s voice, bright and cheerful, as she talked to him about the weather - what else? His low, baritone voice echoed around the farmyard soon after as he replied and he must have said something funny for her mother laughed loudly even before he had finished his sentence. At least pretending to make an effort, she brushed the dirt and grass pollen off her dress ere finally walking around the house to greet him.

 

His face lit up as he saw her, her light blonde hair shimmering in the bright summer sun while it cascaded openly down her back. For a moment she even forget she was angry at him for being late as his eyes, almond shaped and beautiful, twinkled with delight. His lips, full and soft, turned into one of his big smiles where his entire face scrunched up and everybody had to smile with him whether they liked to or not.

“I do hope you have a good excuse for being that late, Benedict,” she chided him, though with a smile, when she had finally reached his side. Her mother had already vanished discreetly back into the house and he turned towards her with a sheepish grin. “Um, I am afraid I don’t. I simply left home too late and got stuck in traffic jam, as I should have expected, on my way out of the city. And that’s why I am late. But I really, really hope you will forgive me.”

He stretched his arms out towards her but instead of falling into them, she took a step back, deciding that he could very well suffer a little longer this time. His face fell and so did his arms.

“Fifty minutes, Benedict. Fifty! That’s a new record, even for you.” Her face was stern and at first glance even her eyes shone a shade darker now, a rich, mossy green. But he knew her, he could easily find that little, mischievous twinkle still hidden somewhere in her gaze upon him and once more he smiled.

 

Obviously remembering something, he walked around the car to open the passenger door and when he returned to his spot opposite her, he was holding a bouquet of flowers. The cheap cellophane around it told her he had gotten it from the petrol station but nevertheless it was the gesture itself that counted. He had never gotten her flowers before, not even for her birthday or Valentine’s day. Yet here he was, stretching the mix of greens, and whites and purples towards her with an apologetic expression on his beautiful face.

“I am sorry, I truly am. But hey, I’m here now so let’s enjoy the day.” Hope resonated in his voice, hope and the desperate wish for a normal day away from cameras and the stage and fans. And who was she to deny him that. After all he drove all the way out here just to see her.


End file.
